


Men In Your Barracks

by Shes-claws-deep (CyrilOdahviing)



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Beads, Ass Play, Begging, Bondage, Cock & Ball Torture, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Edging, F/M, Female Dominance, Female Domination, Femdom, Gag reflex, Gags, LMAO, Male Submissive, Multi, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Post Orgasm Torture, Role Reversal, Sex Toys, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Sexual Humiliation, Shoe Kink, Teasing, Tender Sex, Tenderness, Tsundere Thatcher, ass fucking, blowjob, dom!reader, female led relationship, sub!Bandit, sub!Blitz, sub!Doc, sub!Glaz, sub!Kapkan, sub!Lion, sub!Rook, sub!Tachanka, sub!Thatcher, sub!Vigil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-04-30 04:36:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 17,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14488956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrilOdahviing/pseuds/Shes-claws-deep
Summary: A collection of femdom drabbles and ficlets too short to be oneshots from my tumblr. Hope you enjoy <3





	1. Index

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Men In Your Barracks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14601666) by [baysian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/baysian/pseuds/baysian)



1\. Bandit - Those heels (NSFW)  
2\. Blackbeard - Sexy Beards (NSFW)  
3\. Blitz - Spread your legs (NSFW)  
4\. Blitz - Edging (NSFW)  
5\. Doc - Look in the mirror (NSFW)  
6\. Doc - I'll keep the remote (NSFW)  
7\. Glaz - Patience (NSFW)  
8\. Lion - Irresistible uniforms (a little NSFW)  
9\. Rook - Eating creampies (NSFW)  
10\. Tachanka - Small (NSFW)  
11\. Echo - Collars and jealousy  
12\. Kapkan - Gagged  
13\. Bandit - Go fuck yourself  
14\. Thatcher - First encounters  
15\. Glaz - Gag Reflex (or lack thereof)  
16\. Doc - Doggy style  
17\. Doc - Undressing  
18\. Vigil - A little silence goes a long way  
19\. Caveira - Weapon play  
20\. Buck - A Little Trade (NSFW)  
21\. Blitz - Open (NSFW)  
22\. Jager - Strung Up  
23\. Jager - Haunted House  
24\. Vigil - Happy Totally Not A Special Day  
25\. Doc - Good Morning


	2. Bandit - Those heels

You don’t often wear stilettos, but when you do, Dominic goes crazy for them. Couple that with thigh high stockings and nothing else but a coy smile, and you have him eating out of the palm of your hand. 

“Fuck, you can step on me with those heels,” he moans against your thigh from where he’s taking a breather from being smothered by your pussy. His mouth is dripping with your essence and his own drool, a sight that makes you arch your back in pleasure. 

You brush his cheek with one stocking clad knee, the other raising until the heel of your pumps rests against his strong shoulder. “Don’t mind if I do.” With that, you push him gently until he lies flat on his back, his dark eyes following the long line of your leg as you tap the toe box against his chin. “Why don’t you show me how much you like my shoes?”

He smirks and raises a hand to caress your calf, “With pleasure.” He opens that sinful mouth and runs his tongue along the sharp edge, kissing and licking the leather like it’s your skin. 

It’s a heady sight, one that makes you moan and drag your other foot up his inner thigh. He jumps from surprise at the sensation, but you watch him relax and even tilt his head to watch you as you place your foot square on his cock and balls.

The dirty moan that comes out from his mouth spurs you and you apply more pressure, little by little, until you see his flesh bulging around from the sole. You don’t use the sharp stiletto, at least not yet, but Dominic surprises you by saying, “Do it. Step on me.”

A laugh rips out from you and you oblige him, shifting until you’re kneading his cock and balls with both sole and stiletto. It must hurt, you’re sure, but the former undercover agent just opens his legs wider and arches his back to give you more access. “Mein Gott, that’s so fucking hot,” he groans and starts worshipping your shoe with renewed glee, slobbering all over it like he did your pussy. 

You purr with excitement and start pressing down on him harder and harder until he’s squirming under you. It’s hard to feel anything through the sole of your shoe, but you recognise the throbbing of his cock that heralds his orgasm and you laugh mockingly. “You’re going to cum just from me stepping on you? You’re such a kinky fucker, Dom.”

Said kinky fucker just moans out your name and ruts against your shoe, uncaring of how his foreskin pulls painfully against his cock on one particular upstroke. Cum paints his abs and his chest, some landing on your stockings - evidence of how turned on he was and the strength of his orgasm. 

As he lies there panting from his surprisingly strong climax, you move your other foot and press it against his lips. “Now clean me up.”


	3. Blackbeard - Sexy beards

One might think that, as a badass Navy SEAL who’s out in the field more often than not, that Craig would carry only the necessities in his toiletry kit. Unfortunately…

“Craig, you need to move your conditioner over,” you nudge the offending bottle towards his side of the basin. Blasted things are taking over the whole counter.

He just grunts and puts it on another shelf beside him, this one also teeming with facial hair products. It’s all set out with military precision, though you don’t know how he tells one from the other. You spit out your toothpaste and rinse your mouth, moving on to the rest of your morning facial care routine with an adeptness born from habit. 

One quick rinse and a pat-pat-pat of the towel later, and you’re done, leaving you to stare at your secretly vain boyfriend as he barely starts on caring for his beard. You’re used to it, but you still can’t get over how long it takes for him to get his routine done. It does leave his beard nice and soft though, which is the only reason you tolerate it. 

“Why are you going through the whole thing though?” you look at the bottles and count; he’s on step 9.

Craig stops putting on his beard oil and looks at you with a fond smile. “I always gotta look my best for you, babe.”

(NSFW)

One thing about having a really buff Navy SEAL for a boyfriend is how he can pretty much carry you in any position you desire. And that desire has you up on his shoulders, pressed against the wall, as he eats you out with loud slurps and moans. 

Those broad shoulders of his ripple with every move of his arms as he keeps them pinned over your thighs and hips, anchoring you and balancing you as you tangle your hands in his hair to pull him closer. He sucks and licks you just the way you love it, the hairs of his beard and mustache tickling your sensitive skin when he moves his lips. 

“Fuck I’ll miss this,” he groans against you and buries his face into your wet heat, using the bridge of his nose to rub against your clit as he wriggles his tongue into your pussy. “Miss your taste.”

You laugh breathlessly and massage his scalp and caress the tense muscles of his forearms. “I’ll miss you too.” At your voice, he growls and nibbles at your folds, taking them into his mouth and sucking gently. “Don’t worry, I’ll send pictures.”

“Oh yeah?”

“But you can’t jerk off to them.”

“Fuck.”


	4. Blitz - Spread those legs

“This is so embarrassing,” Elias whines as you position him to your liking. The mirror in front of him reveals his flushed face and parted lips even when he ducks his head down to avoid looking at his reflection. 

You laugh and tut at him, pulling his hips up so he’s on his knees. Then, before he gets comfortable, you knock his legs apart so he’s straining to keep his weight up. “Spread your legs, pretty boy.” They’re spread an admirable distance, you think, but you can’t help but tease him a little. 

“Didn’t you attend some kind of gymnasium back when you were young or something?” your tone is light, but your hands are anything but as they grope greedily at his heavy cock and squeezable balls, eking whimper after whimper out of the man.

“Hah! Hah, not that kind of-of gymnasium,” he groans and tilts his hips up. “Otherwise I’d be doing all sorts of tricks for you by now.”

“Such a shame,” you pout, then you reach under him to grab at his hands, forcing him onto his chest in the process. “You can make it up to me though.”

“Oh yeah?” Elias’s breathing deepens more and his back arches ever so slightly as he tries to accommodate for his broad chest. His hands are directed to his sensitive perineum and his twitching hole, where his fingers fall into a practiced motion of swirling his finger around the skin and teasing the tight pucker. 

You watch him with a heated gaze then move to blanket yourself over him, pressing your breasts into his broad, muscled back and purring into his ear, “Finger yourself.” Massage oil, in lieu of lube, is snatched and smeared over his ass and balls and cock until his skin is shining with the amount that you rub on him. 

Elias’s laugh rumbles deep in his chest as he tilts his head so he can look at you in the mirror, “I don’t think you used enough oil. Got any more to rub on me?” 

“Cheeky boy,” you bite his ass in reproach, though it only earns you a heated moan. Elias grins at you in the mirror, but he obeys you and slides a finger into himself and palms his balls gently, kneading and thrusting until he’s huffing hotly into the carpet. “Mmm, that’s a good boy,” you wrap your arms around him and fondle his aching cock, running your palms up and down his abs to the time of his thrusting fingers. More sounds escape from his soft lips and Elias closes his eyes to stop staring at his lewd reflection.

You’re not having any of it though. Oh no. Slender fingers thread into his thick hair and you wrench his head back with care, revealing his bright red cheeks and hazy eyes. “Oh no you don’t. You’re going to look me in the eyes so I can see your pleasure.”


	5. Blitz - Edging

Elias whimpers as his hand slicks up and down his red, throbbing cock, precum long since forming a river down his shaft to his hips. His body twitches, his pleasure climbing and climbing until he’s on the verge of falling into rapture, just a little bit more-!

“Stop.” 

Fuck! He throws his head back and wrenches his hand away, grasping his hip with an iron grip to stop himself from touching his aching flesh. There’s a ring of black around his vision and blood thunders in his ears, his mind screaming with frustration. He’s lost count of the times you’ve denied his orgasm, but maybe it’s better not to count.

“Naughty boy, touching yourself when I’m not around?” you tut at him from your position on Elias’s lap, “Did you make yourself cum then?”

Elias gulps and tugs at his bindings nervously, “…No?” It’s probably better to tell the truth but fuck his mind isn’t working right now.

You tilt your head and get up, stripping yourself of your panties and thrusting them into his face. Watching as his eyes roll into the back of his head when he takes a deep whiff of your musky scent. “No?” you murmur and guide his hand back when it’s clear he’s inched away from his orgasm. 

His rhythm picks up again and he’s panting before long, dragging breath after breath of you and your slick into his heaving lungs. “Please let me cum?” his accented voice is lower and thicker than usual, evidence of how he’s on the edge again. “Please?”

You cock your head to the side and swirl a finger around his dripping slit and twitching head, and lean in close so you kiss the corner of his mouth. “Did you cum while I was gone?”

Fuck. “No!” he gasps and wails when you tell him to stop again. “Oh come on!”

Your teeth close on his neck and his jaw and his neck, feeling like you’re devouring him and his mind from his slack mouth and his trembling body. “I can keep going like this for a long time,” your voice is like velvet wrapped around steel, piercing through the haze in his mind like a ray of light. “And until you give me the truth…well, let’s see how long you’ll take to crack.”

Elias sobs out a laugh and jumps when you put his slick hand back on his slowly purpling cock. “You should teach Caviera a thing or two,” he manages to quip out before you stuff your panties into his mouth.

“If you can talk, you’re not doing it right,” is your hissed reply and you help him close the distance by rubbing his head just the right way. He jerks and his moans grow louder and louder until-

“Stop.”

FUCK.


	6. Doc - Look in the mirror

“Stress relief?” Gustave moans gently against the mattress, his back arching against your fingertips. 

“You mean this isn’t relaxing?” your tone is innocent, but the smile across your face is anything but. Yes, you’re massaging the overworked, over-stressed medic with an expert touch, slowly reducing him to putty beneath your hands. But you’re also slowly cranking up the dial on the vibrating fleshlight around his cock. 

He undulates under you, his beautifully crafted body rippling with pleasure as you rut against his hips to force him to fuck the toy. Gustave’s eyes roll back into the back of his head uncontrollably when he sinks into the silicon down to his balls, the rotors in the toy ensuring that he rides the thin edge of orgasm. “N-no,” he whimpers in that thick accent of his, “Not r-really.” 

Pouting, you drape yourself over him and rub your soft chest over his back to spread the massaging oil, your lips coming to his ear to lick and nip at it. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” you suck on the tender skin under his lobe and drink in the bitten off swear. You don’t know much French, but you can recognise a curse when you hear it. “You’re not relaxed now, but by the time I’m done, you will be.”

Gustave squirms under you, his legs spreading and hips dancing under yours as he looks back at you as best he can. “Promise?” he whispers in French, soft eyes full of adoration. 

You kiss his ear and laugh darkly, a finger slipping into the tight star of his ass to press sweetly against his prostate. “Of course.” Immediately, Gustave gasps sharply and moans on the exhale when he instinctively spreads his legs even further and bucks into the fleshlight. “That’s it, that’s my good boy,” you purr and bite his shoulder, encouraging his now frenetic pace as he fucks the toy and your finger for real. 

The medic bites his lip and groans quietly, his fingers curling into the sheets and his pace as fast as his heartbeat. He chases his orgasm with a single-mindedness only enhanced by your dirty words in his ear and that finger that just fuels the fire in his veins. Finally, it grows too much to contain and Gustave cries out your name in a breathless voice, thanks and praises and wishes falling from his lips in his native tongue as he continues to ride your finger until his body trembles to a stop.

You, in contrast to his sweaty, shaking form, merely stretch out over him with your hand coiled around his neck. The mirror opposite the bed catches your attention and you gently lift his head, kissing his temple as you murmur into his skin, “Look in the mirror, don’t you look cute?”

With his shuttered eyes and hazed mind, Gustave doesn’t exactly know what the hell you’re talking about, but he nods regardless. Now limp and boneless, he remains motionless as you take the toy and clean him up and curl around him protectively, only moving when you stroke his hair in a loving caress. 

“Feeling relaxed now?”

A snore answers you and you snort out a laugh. Well, that certainly answers your question.


	7. Doc - I'll keep the remote

Gustave trembles as he braces himself against the shelf. He’s just minding his own business, taking inventory of the medical supplies in the store when something buzzes to life inside him. Truth be told, he completely forgot about the plug in his ass, believe it or not.

Now though, there’s no way he can deny its existence when every shift of his body presses it harder against his prostate. Of all the times to have a particularly sensitive prostate-! He moans helplessly and bites his knuckle, trying to quiet his noises as the buzzing strengthens, sapping the strength from his legs. 

He’s lucky he’s alone, he thinks with a fuzzy brain as he slides to the ground, forcing the plug deeper and scrambling even more of his brain. Whimpers leak out from his mouth and he fumbles for his phone, dialing your number and whimpering your name needily.

He hears you tut at him and the buzzing intensifies, ripping a loud cry from his mouth. 

“Shush, Gustave. Do you want people to find you?” you purr at him and the doctor can only swear and clap his hand over his mouth to stem the noises. His hips, however, tremble and he tucks the phone between his cheek and shoulder so he can rub at his swollen, aching cock with his now free hand.

“What’s the matter, baby? You were the one who put that inside you. You agreed that I’d keep the remote and that I could turn it on anytime I wanted.” Your taunting makes him harder and he has to bite out a hissed reply.

“I didn’t think you were going to do it while I’m at work!” his accent is thick and almost syrupy, his voice turning higher and higher as pleasure sings through him.

“Then what’s the fun? You’re not with a patient, are you?”

“Non,” he moans quietly, quickly rubbing his erection to get some much needed relief. He’s not allowed to undo his pants or jerk himself off, but he can touch himself through the fabric.

You hear him rubbing himself and laugh, “So desperate. Tell you what, if you can cum like that, you get to choose when your next orgasm is.”

He gets to choose when his next orgasm is? Fuck, now he can’t lose, not when you have a tendency to deny him time after time to amuse yourself with his suffering. With desperate moves, he humps his hand and jostles the plug inside him, riding the wave as it threatens to crest over him. God he needs to cum, he really needs to cum right now.

“M-may I cum, please, master?” his tongue feels like lead but he gets it out.

“Hmm, you-” you start, but are interrupted by another french accented voice from outside the clinic.

“Doctor Kateb? Doctor, you have an appointment in five minutes.”

Merde! He snarls quietly as the shock forces his orgasm back. Now devoid of the rush of his incoming orgasm, he feels you turn the vibe off so he can go back to work. Gustave gets to his feet shakily and almost sobs at the loss of his orgasm, his hand brushing across his crotch and realises that his precum has seeped through his underwear and caused a visible stain on his dark fatigues.

“Oh well. See you tonight, my love!” you blow him a kiss through the phone and hang up, leaving the doctor to see to his patient with a frustrated scowl on his face.


	8. Glaz - Patience

Timur moans against your mouth in soft pants, feeling oddly vulnerable with his back against the cold wall while you’re plastered to his chest. It’s a stark difference from his usual dates, but you’re not a usual date, are you? His hands gravitate to your ass and squeezes tight, dipping his fingers into your inner thighs when you curl one hand around the back of his neck.

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this for forever,” you pant into his lips, a string of saliva pulling out between your mouths as you pull away to nuzzle just under his ear. 

The sniper’s chest heaves with the force of his panting breaths, reveling in the feel of your softer chest pressing against his when you lean impossibly closer. “Not-” he licks his lips to break the string, “Not as long as I have.”

You hum, surprised and pleased all in one, and you slip one hand under his shirt to caress his firm abs. “So patient,” your fingers trace over his happy trail and follow them down to the waist of his trousers. 

“I was just waiting for-” he yelps quietly when he feels you slip your fingers past the waistband and touch the sensitive flesh of his half hard cock. His breathing deepens and his blue eyes hazily stare into yours, but he manages to complete his sentence hoarsely, “the right moment. For when you would enter my crosshairs.” 

A purr rumbles in your chest as he murmurs that out in his sweet voice, “I like that. That kind of patience?” Your hand wraps around his straining erection, now squished in the tight space between your bodies, and feel the subtle tremor that runs through his body when he feels your warmth surround him. Timur gulps at the predatory look in your eyes, floundering at how he feels like the one caught in the crosshairs of another. “Show me how much you can take.”


	9. Lion - Irresistible uniforms

“You know, there’s just something so extremely irresistible about a uniform.”

Olivier gulps as he feels your warmth press against his back, his whole form tensing with your slight weight. He desperately wants to quip something about how the uniform looks irresistible on him, but he doesn’t want to ruin this with his big mouth. 

Your presence moves and he instinctively tilts his head to hear you better, something that you seem to approve of by the way you hum with appreciation. “You have such a handsome profile, did anyone tell you?” Your fingers follow the sharp line of his jaw down to his lips and Olivier has to resist shuttering his eyes at your touch.

His lips tremble as they open, about to say that he’s obviously heard that before, but that brain-mouth filter saves him again as it forces his jaw shut. 

He can see you raise a brow in amusement at how he visibly struggles to shut himself up. “I’m surprised that you aren’t running your mouth, soldier,” you draw closer and pull his head down to kiss him gently. “You’re known for it, after all.”

Olivier swallows thickly and bows his head so you can kiss him as deeply as you want. When you part away from him, his heart almost stops at how stunning you are, how you don’t look at him with censure and disappointment and he has to flutter his eyes to ground himself. “I-” his accent is thick from how hard he kept himself in check. “I don’t want to ruin this.”

“So sweet,” you murmur and reward him with a probing kiss, consuming and devouring him until only his bare core remains.

Olivier moans into your mouth and clenches his fist over his wrist tight, forbidding himself from breaking his parade rest.

“But don’t worry,” you break away and reveal what you’ve been hiding behind your back. A gag. “You won’t have to think about holding your tongue from now on.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the Frenchman can only nod at you with puppy eyes and a hopeful look, obeying immediately when you tell him to drop to his knees. How he makes it look graceful, you’ll never know, but the way he sighs in relief when you slip it into his mouth and buckle it around his head makes you forget everything else.

You trace a finger over his stretched lips and kiss the gag in lieu of his lips, “So pretty. You don’t have to think about a thing, alright Olivier? Let me lead you.”

His dark eyes flutter shut and he leans against your hand as you cradle his face. Something in him settles and he finally feels the weight drop off his shoulders as you slowly undress him and guide him to the bed. It feels like…home.


	10. Rook - Eating creampies

Julien didn’t think he’d have much energy left after you wrung out two huge orgasms out of him, but he stands corrected when a surge of energy rushes through him the moment you lower your pussy onto his spit slick lips. 

“Gods above, I love how you love eating me out even after I’ve cum in you,” you moan out and grind against his hungry mouth. His burly arms wrap around your thighs and knead at your inner thighs absently as he sucks at your clit like a teat. 

That talented tongue dips into you and scoops out his seed, his throat bobbing as he swallows your combined juices. Once the taste suffuses his senses, Julien just goes insane with lust and surges up into you, stuffing his face into your warmth and proceeds to devour you. He moans and whimpers at your taste and tightens his grip on you, pulling you closer even as he leans up. 

His hunger turns you on and you bury your fingers into his hair with breathy groans and praises. Soft murmurs break you from your trance and you look down to see that Julien is muttering to himself. His eyes are glazed over, as if he’s not seeing a thing despite them being open. You have to concentrate and push through the mind-numbing pleasure to hear what he’s saying. 

“Moremoremoremore.” You can feel his little pants against your heated pussy and you only manage to whisper a ‘what’ before he tilts you over from his over eagerness to consume you. 

You topple over onto your back with his head still buried in your pussy, mouth open to censure him. Your first words are harsh but it dissolves into swears as he uses his new position to dig his tongue even deeper, to take even more of your pussy into his greedy mouth. 

“You’re gonna fucking pay later, you know that right?” you hiss out but dig your heels into his back as you cum on his tongue with a cry of his name. Julien hums distractedly, mind still dead set on cleaning you to the best of his ability. It might take a while, he was buried in you to the hilt when he flooded you with his seed.


	11. Tachanka - Small

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smoll russian turtle is not so small

“Small?” Aleksandr squints at you quizzically. He looks down at his hulking form when, even seated, is almost as tall and certainly as broad as you are. “I am not small.”

You pout at him and push him back so you can slide into his lap with your legs on either side of him. Smaller, certainly frailer hands trail down his fatigues and unbutton them slowly, subtly, until the giant blinks and finds his chest bared before you. With a giggle, you push the thick fabric off his incredibly broad shoulders coyly, “No, you’re not small. But you’re my smol Russian turtle, get it?” 

He frowns at you despite his blush as you start to toy with his rock hard nipples, rolling them in your fingers and nipping them teasingly. “That does not make sense.”

A light laugh answers him as you just unbuckle his belt and pants to open them too. 

“Are you just going to keep laughing and taking my clothes off?” Aleksandr’s bass voice turns ever deeper as he sits there pliantly.

“Maayyyybe~” you purr and nuzzle his neck to take in his masculine scent, raking your nails down his lightly furred chest and nipples. He moans softly and curls his arms around you mindlessly. “Why? Do you want me to stop?” 

Of course, now that you have your small hand wrapped around his thick cock and teasing at his balls, you’re sure Aleksandr won’t be as grumbly. “No,” he grunts and pulls you closer, shifting you so he can tug his pants down to his knees to give you better access.

You grin and kiss him hungrily, hands working at him with such excitement and eagerness that the Russian soldier just moans helplessly under you. And when you take your hands off him so you can go back to tweaking his nipples, he huffs and bites at your neck, “But if you stop, I become snapping turtle.”

Laughter fills the air, followed by a yelp as he nips at you again. ‘Snapping turtle’ indeed.


	12. Echo - Collars and jealousy

Masaru is an attractive man - anyone with eyes could tell you that. Despite his good looks, Masaru just never bothers with anyone other than you, something that you appreciate greatly. The same cannot be said, however, for others. After watching what seems like the fiftieth individual come up and flirt with your man, you’ve had enough. 

He grunts softly as you pin him against the wall of your bedroom. “Are you jealous?” he purrs and smirks at your disgruntled expression. 

You narrow your eyes at him and grip a handful of his thick hair to pull his head to the side. Biting hard, you growl into his ear, “You’re goddamn right I’m jealous.”

The infuriating man just leers back at you and rubs up against you, “Because of the men and women who were coming up to me all right? Touching me, buying me drinks? Telling me all the things they wanted to do to me?” He stops to moan and wrap his arms around your waist as you drag your nails down his scalp in censure. 

“Why, did you enjoy it?” your voice is pure honey and poison, a snake waiting for your prey. 

Masaru is either stupid or stupidly brave, you’re not sure which, and he just bites his lip and presses his now tented bulge against your belly. “And if I did?”

He then yelps as he’s thrown to the ground and wheezes as the wind is knocked out of him. Dropping to your knees to straddle his chest, you unbuckle his belt and whip it out to wrap it around his neck, cinching tight until his eyes start to haze over in lust. He arches his back and head, exposing more of his throat to you as his hands find your thighs despite them pinning his arms down. 

“Then I’d say I need to teach you a lesson.” The hard glint in your eyes excites him and he grins toothily. And when you pull on the leather to drag his head up, Masaru doesn’t do anything but purr and moan and squirm. 

“Surely there’s a more expedient method of showing who I belong to?” He says this with a darkly seductive tone. “Something more permanent than a mere lesson that only I will see.”

Leaning back, you palm his hard cock and listen to his whiny moan, looking at him and how he looks so good with his thick belt around his slender neck. “I’m going to get you a collar, Masaru.” At the mention of a collar, he moans and tries to rut against you, stopping when you kiss him roughly. “And then, you’re going to wear it so that everyone will know you’re mine.” 

Masaru gasps and melts, his dark eyes becoming almost predatory as you start to rip off his clothes. “Perfect.”


	13. Kapkan - Gagged

Maxim’s not the most vocal of men, you respect that. But sometimes you just want to hear him moan and whimper and that’s only possible if you stuff something in his mouth. Don’t ask; it just works.

“Open up~” you sing, tracing his lips with your pinky as you hold a large rubber ball gag between your hands. 

Those dark eyes glare up at you even as he parts his lips marginally. Enough to fulfill your command but not enough to satisfy you. You harrumph in amusement, darting in to kiss him harshly.

Maxim sighs and leans into the kiss, his mouth opening when you sneak your tongue in to tangle with his. He grows distracted by your lips, investing himself fully into the kiss until he completely forgets about the gag in your hands. His hands, large and rough and oh so warm, close around your waist to draw you in closer and closer until you’re plastered up against his broad chest.

Shit, now you’re the one getting distracted. No matter, you have what you came for. With one last nip to his now kiss swollen bottom lip, you part from him with a slick pop and ease the gag between his slack lips. Still fuzzy from your passionate kiss, Maxim allows it without a fight until you’re buckling the strap around his head.

He jerks and tries to pull his head back, attempting to stop you to no avail. Grumbling and growling behind the ball, he bares his teeth at you and digs his fingers into your hips in censure. To his displeasure, you just laugh through the mild pain of his strong grip and just kiss his lips around the ball, hand sneaking up his threadbare shirt.

“Don’t growl at me so, Maxim,” you purr, hands already finding his nipples and tweaking them just the way he likes it. In an instant, Maxim melts and starts to knead your hips rather than claw at them, soft noises filtering from beyond the gag. “There we go.” The bear of a man tries to growl at you again but it just trails off into a low moan when you slip another hand into his pants to grope at his quickly hardening cock. 

His eyes roll into the back of his head uncontrollably, drool slipping from his lips, and Maxim bites down on the gag to try and stem the needy noises that raise in volume with your every touch. With his body like jelly and his mind hazy, Maxim doesn’t stop you when you back him into a wall and tug his pants down roughly to let his fat cock spring free. Fuck, it’s going to be so hard to stop himself from making these humiliating noises once the gag is off. But if it makes you whip out the gag again, he’ll do it even if it makes his cheek bleed from how hard he bites it.


	14. Bandit - Go fuck yourself

You sigh and plant your foot on Dominic’s chest to push him back. “I’m not in the mood today,” you drawl and point to the drawer where you keep all your sex toys. “Go and fuck yourself.”

“Fine,” Dominic rolls his eyes but obeys, adjusting the tent in his pants as he does so. The fucking man is a horn dog all day every day, how is that even possible? No matter, there are other ways for him to entertain himself; and you, by extension. He fishes out his favourite dildo from the drawer and drags a chair over, securing the toy to the seat by way of the suction cup. It’s a slender thing, but ribbed and curved in all the right places, able to drive him insane even without its vibrating function.

Your man strips efficiently, though he tosses his shirt over your head in a show of his pettiness. Lube is squeezed out and slathered over his hole and the silicon cock, enough that it drips all over the wooden seat. He fingers his hole then, slipping in one finger, two, and then three in a practiced move that makes you smile at his talent. Dominic always had a fondness for keeping his hole nice and loose. 

“Fuck it, Dom,” you wave your hand imperiously, scooting your chair closer so you can fondle his cock lazily with your toe. “I know you want it.”

He grumbles and pouts back at you though his body moves as you command, the head of the cock spreading him open and forcing a filthy moan from his lips. His thighs spread wide to allow you the perfect view of his slutty hole swallowing up the dildo, his muscle stretched wide as he sinks down to the base. “Fuck!” he gasps and grips his own cock, stroking it desperately as he rides the dildo like a man possessed. “Fuuuck~”


	15. Thatcher - First encounters

“Why the fuck are you looking so smug?” Mike’s voice is a low growl, his body looking like a coiled snake despite being on his knees. “This is getting you off, isn’t it? Seeing me on my knees?”

You twirl the leather leash between your fingers, tugging gently so he lurches forward from how it pulls on the collar that’s latched tight around his neck. “It does, actually. And you owe me since I know you jerk off to me at night. Those lovely moans aren’t the subtlest in this rickety old house, you know.” His cheeks glow bright red in a furious blush, one that you’re sure is due to both embarrassment and fury in equal measure.

“You’re stalking me now?” His hiss should probably belong to an irate cat, honestly. 

Tutting at him, you hook one hand into his collar and pull him close enough to kiss his lips gently. “If you beat one off with the door ajar, I’d say you’re asking to be caught.” His lips tremble slightly when you nip the bottom one, licking across the seam of his mouth for good measure before you pull away and haul him closer to hook your knees over his broad shoulders. “Unfortunately, I didn’t manage to see you. So how about you give me an encore.”

“Why should I?” He grits his teeth and tries to look away from your smouldering gaze only to accidentally nuzzle your thigh, pulling a soft moan from you. His tightly muscled body freezes then, his eyes going wide and a blush stretching down his neck. 

Hook, line and sinker.

Sighing delicately, you rub your thigh against his lips teasingly and arch your back to put your breasts on display. “Because if you don’t, I’ll never let you this close ever again.” 

You can see him thinking about it, see him weigh his options. Butterflies rage in your belly and for a moment you feel bad for forcing him into this. With a sudden rush of guilt and maybe embarrassment, you reach down to undo his collar and shift your weight so you can pull your knees off of him so he can get up.

Before you can do anything more than fish out the flap of the collar or even move your legs an inch, though, Mike swears and wraps one beefy arm over your thigh to press it to his lips. He reaches down for his quickly hardening cock and shudders as he glides his palm up and down in a practiced rhythm, his lips kissing and sucking and licking at your inner thigh as he does so. 

You let your head hang back and allow soft noises to fill the air between you, a smile stretching across your face at how he finds his way between your legs even without you saying a word. 

Mike grumbles when he looks up at your lust-softened face, his own glazed with arousal. “Don’t be so insufferably smug,” he mumbles against your skin in a weak protest, his normally cutting words offset by the colour in his cheeks and how he buries his face into your warmth.


	16. Glaz - Gag Reflex (or lack thereof)

“You know, I don’t have a gag reflex.” 

The unexpected statement catches you off guard and you trip and fall into Timur’s back, hands catching on his thick coat for balance. When you finally gather your feet under you and stabilise yourself, you whirl him around and stand on your tiptoes to glare right into those icy blue eyes. “What did you say?”

He just blinks. “I said I don’t have a gag reflex-”

“Yes,” you flap your hands at him in a flustered manner, your eyes darting around the almost empty park around you. Even in the dying days of winter, there are still people loitering around and you really wish you two were alone. “But I meant - why the hell are you saying it in public?!”

That mischievous glint reminds you that his immense patience and obedience is but one aspect of this man. You’re going to kill Dominic or Marius for planting that seed of mischievousness into your boy, you swear to whoever is listening. Timur just leans down and opens his mouth, tugging your glove off your hand and sticking your fingers down his throat. 

True to his word, he doesn’t gag even when your knuckles bump into his teeth and his throat clenches around the tips of your fingers. Little slick sounds escape him as he pulls them out of his throat, closing his lips around your fingers to clean you off. 

You’re sure your brain has stopped functioning somewhere between him actually sticking your fingers down his throat and keeping it there for several seconds. The blush spreading across your face might have cooked your mental processes too. Your eyes are stuck fluttering between his seductive bedroom eyes and his sinful lips as he finally releases your clean, slightly damp fingers.

“So?” he clears his throat and quips softly, smiling in what you think might be triumph and no small amount of smug victory. You’re missing something, but you’re going to squeeze it out of him once you can gather two brain cells to rub together.

Finally snapping back to your senses, you glare at him and kiss him roughly, pinning him against the convenient tree trunk behind him. “You’re going to regret telling me that, Timur. I’m going to fuck your throat real good. So good you won’t be able to talk for days.”

He moans and sighs into your mouth, his arms wrapping around you to envelop you in his warmth. When you pull away from him, you grab him by the scarf and drag him all the way back home.


	17. Doc - Doggy Style

“Ohhh merde~!” Gustave hangs his head between his shoulders, jaw dropping in ecstasy as you spank his firm ass. His cock and balls swing with every thrust of your hips, his favourite dildo hitting all the right spots in him that make him swear uncharacteristically. 

You grab him by the back of his neck and push his head down, your other hand pressing on his lower back to make him angle his hips just right. “What’s the matter, Dr. Kateb?” your voice is teasing as you bite his shoulder to anchor yourself, to give yourself more leverage to fuck him harder. 

He moans and presses his cheek against the cold surface of the med bay bed, hands sliding forward to grab the headboard to push back against you. “Nu-nurse-” he gasps, accent thickening until it’s almost unintelligible as he whimpers some more. “Oh it feels so good. Can I- can I touch myself?” He tries to say something else but it trails off into a low whine as you stroke his sensitive balls and the little bulge of his perineum.

You purr and bite a little more at his muscular shoulder, both hands now wrapping around his lithe hips and fondling his cock and balls. “You can, but you can’t cum until I say so.”

“Y-yes, nurse! Oh fuck-” he works at the head of his cock and his eyes roll into the back of his head from the rush of pleasure - from your hands, the cock in his ass, your voice in his ear. Soon enough his legs are trembling and threaten to dump him belly first on the bed. “Pleasepleaseplease ohhhh~” French flows from his lips now, his brain unable to process any other language as you rail his ass, the sounds of fucking and your hips slapping together filling his head. 

You laugh and slap at his cheek lightly, kissing it after. “Don’t fall asleep yet, Doctor. We’re not quite done.” Of course, Gustave is the furthest thing from asleep, but his fluttering eyes and slack mouth, along with his lust-drunk expression, don’t exactly show signs of anyone being home either.


	18. Doc - Undressing

Gustave swallows thickly as he closes the door behind him, watching you raise your eyes from the reports littering your desk. “Good, you’re here,” you nod and tell him to lock it. It’s late at night, but you’re not taking any chances. “Come.”

He obeys wordlessly, brushing his fingertips along the surface of the table as he comes and stands by you. Watches you push your chair out so you can look at him and caress his thighs as he naturally assumes a parade rest position. You bury your head against his sternum and breathe him in; the cold scent of the clinic mixing in with his natural musk and a tiny hint of your favourite cologne. Perfect.

“Take your coat off.”

His coat flutters to the ground, a stark white against both your boots. 

“Your fatigues.”

Those talented fingers rip the velcro in one easy move, showing off his strength as he shrugs it off. His muscles strain against the fabric of his undershirt, displaying his pecs and biceps so wonderfully that you tease his nipples. Gustave moans softly, lowering his hands to the hem of his shirt so he can pull it over his head upon your order. 

His hair speckled skin ripples as he tosses his shirt into a corner, his hands brushing over his happy trail before he locks his wrists behind his back again. While also an active duty soldier, Gustave knows he maintains his physique more for your pleasure than for more practical reasons. Six wouldn’t care if he had ripped abs or not, but you sure do. 

And indeed you treasure it, nuzzling into his lower belly as you grin up at him.

“Pants off, now.”

“Oui, madame,” he whispers, that delicious parisian accent so addictive that you make him dirty talk just for your amusement. It delights you that he blushes with every word that comes out, all his desires that you’ve stoked over the day with saucy texts and provocative pictures. As he speaks, he unbuckles his belt and his fly, pulling the legs out of his boots so as to avoid taking his footwear off. A man in just his boots is sexy as fuck, and Gustave is no exception. 

Now in nothing but his socks and combat boots, he stands with his legs apart and his hands behind his back once more, leaving his bare cock to twitch against his thigh when you blow a gentle breath over it. “Going commando today, my love?” you grin and press a kiss over the hooded head, enjoying his sharp intake of breath as you do so. “How dirty.”

He manages to crook his lips into a shy smile and ducks his head, “I had hoped you would want to see me after the day was over. I didn’t want anything to get in the way.”

How sweet. You say so and watch him blush prettily, the lightly tanned features of his face glowing. Rubbing your hands up and down his flank, you lean in close enough that your lips touch his quickly hardening cock. 

“What a good boy,” you press more butterfly kisses against his heated flesh, pulling gentle moan after gentle moan out of the once composed doctor. He whimpers, his thighs trembling with the desire to buck his hips. But he resists, and ducks his chin down to watch you with slightly hazed eyes. Those dark eyes of his are piercing in their intensity, locking on your lips as you lick them and press it against the base of his cock. “Let me reward you for your thoughtfulness.”

“Th-thank you~” he whimpers in French, loving the way you get even more eager the moment he switches languages. But that’s the last thing he can articulate for a long time; at least while you have your mouth around him.


	19. Thermite - Kissing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> took a while to get here but here's thermite. which is weird since i main therms as an attacker but i've never written anything for him lmao

“Did you get a burn again?” your droll voice makes Jordan wince as he slowly turns to greet you.

“Uhhh,” he hides his hands behind his back with a sheepish grin. “No?”

With a sigh, you smile exasperatedly and shoo him away from where he was trying to wrap bandages and aloe around his arms. “You just insist on not wearing gloves and I don’t know why.”

Jordan mumbles something incoherent but cuddles up behind you, pressing his front flush against your back and holding his arms out in front of you so you can wrap them. It’s a lot harder this way, but he feels so warm and good that you don’t have the heart to step away. 

In any case, you smear the aloe on generously and wrap them, pressing your hands on his left forearm for a while to feel his muscles under your palm. Jordan just smiles, burying his face into your hair to take a deep breath. Shit, the burns fucking hurt even with the soothing aloe. He’s partial to just popping a pill and going to take a nap to forget about the pain, but he still has a couple of reports to write. 

You sense the tiredness in your man and you turn around, nudging his head up so you can kiss him full on the lips. “Still got work to do?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, melts into you as he kisses you back, tongue cheekily poking out to slither between your lips and retreating just as quickly. 

Harrumphing, you wrap your hands around his neck and scratch at his buzz-cut to tilt his head to the side, deepening the kiss to your liking. Jordan, evidently, likes it too from the way he curls his arms around you to pull you into a tight embrace. He flinches - shit, must have pressed too hard against his tender skin.

His flinch doesn’t go unnoticed, so without removing your lips from his, you murmur, “Hands off, Jordan.”

“But-”

You dig your fingers into the underside of his jaw. “Hands off. Or you don’t get off for the next week.”

“Shit.” He swears and his hands fly off you, hovering awkwardly by his sides since folding them behind his back would be just as bad. “Fuck.”

“Later,” you hiss against his open mouth again as you whirl around and pin him against the counter.


	20. Vigil - A little silence goes a long way

Chul Kyung always looks so sad - even when he’s just sitting there and staring up at you, waiting and listening. His hands are limp in his lap, relaxed yet damp with the finest sheen of sweat coating his palms. He’s nervous but it doesn’t show on his face or his body language, something that perturbs you as much as it saddens. But this isn’t the time for lamenting - no, it’s the time for you to see what your wonderful, albeit quiet, boy can give. 

A finger caresses the light bristles on the edge of his jaw, cupping it and warming his oddly cold cheeks when you can’t resist touching him a little more. Chul Kyung merely flinches a little before he relaxes again, this time closing his dark eyes and leaning into your palm ever so gently. Slowly, slowly, he raises his calloused hand and pins it to his cheek, thumb absently rubbing the back of your fingers. His throat bobs, jaw working under your palm, as he struggles to put together his thoughts. 

Would it be easier if you put a hood or mask on him, you wonder out loud, eyes gentle and understanding when he looks up at you with wide eyes and a pleading look. It’s a pity to hide his beautiful face, but his comfort means more to you than the simple pleasure of looking at his face - after all, you have all the time in the world to look at him. The makeshift hood - one of your shirts with the sleeves and collar sewn shut - goes over his head with ease and you tuck it by his neck, locking his collar shut over the fabric. 

Then. Only then does Chul Kyung let out a freeing breath, shoulders slumping and hand clasping yours to bring it back to his now covered cheek. It’s almost like he becomes another person once his face is covered. He murmurs your name quietly then, turning his face so he can press his hidden lips against your palm. He’s yours. Only yours. Even if he can’t bear to show you his face in such an intimate setting; he’s yours to love, to destroy.

You want to smile at his sudden verbosity, but you stop yourself even if he can’t see you. You love that he’s slowly opening up to you and you reward him with a kiss on the lips, then push him gently back onto the bed. Like this, he goes down gently, muscled core lowering him onto the mattress with nary a sound. His feet lie flat on the ground, thick thighs forming the perfect seat for you as you perch yourself atop him. 

At the feel of your weight atop him, Chul Kyung tenses and shuffles so you’re not half hanging off the bed, keeping his hands on your knees to balance you. They tighten when you unbutton his shirt and his pants, the only outward reaction he gives even as you lower yourself to lick at his dusky nipples. Yet, when you bite down on them he lets out a soft groan, pecs rippling under your lips and teeth when the pain begins to sting. 

When you let go, he moans quietly and you praise him for it, hands rubbing his ridged abs and that glorious happy trail that lead down to your favourite toy. It’s already tenting the thick fabric of his fatigues and pushing the zipper down on its own, but you help it along by lowering the zipper entirely and pulling the waistband down until it’s scrunched around his thighs. His cock, thick and curved and throbbing - perfect in all its dripping glory - greets you as it springs out, freed from his underwear. As it lies on his belly, arching up towards his navel, you trail a line up the underside with a questing finger, reveling in the little bob of his cock and the bead of clear precum that forms at his mouth watering slit. 

You want to wrap your mouth around it, you tell him, and watch as his muscled body tenses and jumps, as he whimpers ever so quietly under his breath. Good, so very good. Your praise has an effect on him and it’s obvious in how he moans softly and bucks his hips. 

Please please please - his body begs where his mouth cannot. Please touch me. 

His cock throbs and flexes and drools more, drawing your salivating mouth towards it. It’s so pretty that you just can’t resist. Murmuring it to him, you follow through with your desire and close your lips around his thick head, laving and licking until you’re drawing more of his musky taste from his slit. Chul Kyung moans louder now, hands leaving your knees to ball into the sheets, knuckles turning white from the sheer strength of his grip. 

You grin and cup his balls as you drop your jaw, taking him further and further until your lips are pressing against his wiry hair. He’s deep in your throat now and you have to concentrate on keeping yourself relaxed even as he throbs and flexes and threatens to make you pull away. And when you finally surface for air, you find him with his neck arched up, as though if he focuses he can see you through the fabric. 

And he can, but it’s nothing but a faint blur and he so so wishes he could see you. Then you slip him into your mouth again and everything turns black when he squeezes his eyes shut, sharp flashes of pleasure suffusing his every sense until he’s trembling in your grip. Again, his body begs where his mouth cannot - let me cum. Let me show you how much I can give you. Let me show you what you inspire in me.

Alas, you’re not quite done. You say as much and watch him shiver and shake a little more. Yes, so not quite done with your little wallflower.


	21. Caveira - Weapon play

Most would describe Taina as a leashed tiger. One on a tether so short and fragile it would take but a single tug to break. Now you get to see that tether first hand - the thick collar around her neck and the chain link leash that tethers her to the wall does nothing to soften her appearance. In fact, you wager it makes her look even more dangerous. 

Taina leers up at you with poisonous blue-grey eyes, looking for all her bondage like a tiger coiled to strike. “Looking to do some damage with that knife, minha amada?” Said knife glints in the light of the overhead lamp, catching on the clean edge and artful engravings along the fuller. 

Your fingers hold it gracefully, securely, as you trace it along the unblemished skin of her jaw. “Would you like me to hurt you like that, Taina?” You smile at the look of challenge in her eyes. “Or maybe I should let Luison do the talking?” Her handgun is pressed to her temple - unloaded and empty of rounds, of course - cold metal meeting heated skin. 

A drunk look enters those cool grey eyes and Taina smirks at you with a hazed edge to her expression, pressing back against the muzzle tauntingly. “Anything,” she purrs, pulling hard against the collar and leash to lean closer to you. She wants it, she wants to feel something other than the emptiness inside her. Pain is addictive, so euphoric in the way nothing else is. “Destroy me.”

She pulls her hands behind her back, gripping her wrists together and arching her back as you tangle your fingers into her hair to wrench it back roughly. A moan escapes her, a satisfied groan quickly following when you press the muzzle against her cheek instead. “Kiss me, Taina.”

Again she strains against your grip and the collar, uncaring of the restriction on the throat or the sharp tug against her scalp so she can reach your lips which remain tantalisingly out of reach. As a tease, you keep her just a hair’s breadth away from you, enjoying her frustration as she leans further and further just so she can kiss you. Eventually, Taina just growls and rips her hands away from her back and around your neck so she can finally wrench you close. 

You laugh instead of pulling away, kissing her back and devouring her for a scant moment before you press the muzzle of Luison into the middle of her forehead so you can pry her off you. Taina fights every step of the way, heedless of the empty threat of the handgun, snarling and growling and clawing at the air when you step away from her. Yes, you think as you watch her simmer down when you exchange Luison for her beloved knife. Just like a tiger.


	22. Buck - A Little Trade

“What did you say you wanted to do with the boys tonight, Sébastien?” You drape yourself over his sweaty form, arching your back so you don’t touch his aching, throbbing cock.

“Uhhh-” he groans and squeezes his eyes shut, biting his lip. “P-partying?” Sanity is a little far from his reach right now and god he hopes he said an actual word instead of something garbled.

Tapping your lip, you slide your pussy against the head of his cock and tease it by dipping it into you, letting it slip out, again and again until Sébastien swears at you. Still, you tut at him and sit upright so you rest across his leaking cock, “Partying, you say? Well, you do deserve a little break.” Then you slip his cock into you all the way and he arches up with a silent scream, teeth clicking shut when he falls back onto the bed and bucks his hips up desperately. 

Unfortunately for him, you rise up and let him slip out. Sébastien snaps his eyes open and growls at you, his scruffy beard making him look so much like an enraged bear that you coo at him. “So cute. Tell you what, if you manage to make me cum within ten minutes, I’ll let you go out with the boys. How about that?”

“Yessss~” he hisses and lurches up to wrap his arms around you, angling his hips so he slides right into you again with a satisfied groan. He begins to fuck up into you with a determined expression, his lips on your throat and his fingers wandering to your clit to touch you just the way you taught him to. It feels good for sure and you play it up, moaning and writhing into him. You’re close, that’s true, but he’s so affected by your pleasure it’s almost funny. 

You’ll get your orgasm, but Sébastien? Sébastien will be stuck with a hard on for most of the night. It’ll be fun to see if he comes back to you in the same state.


	23. Blitz - Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blitz is tied down and has anal beads stuffed into his ass :3

Elias blushes madly as you straddle his head between your feet.

“Ready, baby?” you coo at him and snap the rope between your fists. You’ve been looking forward to this all day and so has he; you’ve inundated him with pictures of your plans for today and Elias spent the entire day with a hard-on. 

“I’ve been ready since noon, liebe.” He bites his lip and spreads his legs wide with his knees up, showing you his throbbing cock and clenched balls, showing you exactly how excited he is. 

Laughing, you kneel down and sit on his face lightly, taking most of the weight on your knees. It clearly delights Elias because he wriggles in anticipation, urging you to put more weight on his face and smother him with your clothed pussy. You can feel him mouthing at you through your shorts and panties, but you ignore it to the best of your ability while you contort him to your liking. 

Thank goodness his muscle mass doesn’t inhibit his flexibility, you purr out loud to him; you’d hate it if you couldn’t press him into positions that most men would sob at. With his forearms bound to his shins and his knees bound to the sides of his broad chest, it’s a position that most men of his size would be unable to hold. But for your boy, it’s all too easy, especially when tempted by the scent of your pussy just tantalisingly out of reach. 

“How’s that feel?” You check in with him, lifting off his mouth so you can hear his reply. 

“I’d feel better if you put yourself back on my mouth~” 

Barking out a laugh, you indulge him for a moment, pulling your shorts and panties to the side just to give him a moment’s taste. He moans and strains upwards, digging his nose past the fabric and sticking his tongue out to barely graze against your clit. Whimpering, he strains upwards, wriggling and rocking back and forth just to try and put his mouth on you properly. Just grazing you with his tongue is driving him mad. Well, it’s driving you mad too, but you have too many plans to just drop it and ride his face to completion right now.

Elias protests your absence, whining for you to come back petulantly. It soon peters off when you use long lashes of rope to pull him into a plow pose after nudging a pillow under him. He’s now too preoccupied with the stretch in his back and his thighs to moan and groan about how he’s being deprived of your sweet, musky scent. Too preoccupied with you blowing on his exposed asshole and the feel of his cock dangling above his face. 

With him finally in position, you walk over to his back and squat right up against his back, planting your face right in his stretched out hole. It’s so well used that it stretches a little bit open, welcoming your spit slicked finger as you slip it inside. Elias moans shakily, panting with an open mouth and watching you with wide eyes as you motorboat his balls and stretch his asshole wide with two pointer fingers. 

“Scheiße!” His hands clamp down on his ankles, nails digging into his skin when you take one of his balls into your mouth, sucking and licking the tender skin until he’s trembling. You purr at his reaction, leaning back a little so you can focus on stretching his asshole nice and wide until you can see his tender insides. 

“You look so pretty like this, don’t you know? All exposed and vulnerable, ready for me to abuse you however I like,” you moan, nipping at his perineum, dipping in three more fingers just to hear him swear loudly again. “But you love it when I stretch you and press you into position, don’t you? When you can’t stop me from doing what I want to you.” You fish around and show him a long line of big anal beads, gleaming in the light and reflecting in his bright blue eyes. 

A hungry look overcomes the dazed expression on his face and Elias nods as much as he’s able, wriggling against the rope and trying his hardest to spread himself impossibly wider. “Give it to me~ I want it~”

Grinning at his enthusiasm, you lube it up quickly and start pushing each bead in slowly, admiring how his hole stretches around each ball as it sinks inside him. The beads make a dirty squelching sound as they settle into place, pressing up against his walls and making him feel so full as you stuff one after another in quick succession. Eventually, you get to his previous record, leaving three still hanging along his crack and dangling against his back. 

Elias is near hyperventilating now, eyes rolling into the back of his head and drool leaking out the corner of his mouth. He can’t take how the beads are pressing so sweetly against his prostate, jostling whenever you slap his ass and his thighs. “Please,” he whispers, biting his lip. “Please!” What he’s begging for, he has no idea, but he definitely wants something. “Liebe, please!”

“Do you want more, baby?” You rub the next bead around his pink asshole, already slick and red and pulsing. “Can you take another?”

He nods feverishly, cock leaking precum onto his cheek. “Put another in me, please! I want it, I want another~” Who cares if his ass feels like it’s about to burst? Not Elias, that’s for sure.

And so another bead is lubed up and pushed in with great effort; you trying to find some space to shove it in, and Elias trying not to wriggle around from the heavenly feeling of the balls shifting around inside him. The German feels lightheaded from his panting and the feel of the anal beads but it only serves to heighten his pleasure when you finally sit the bead in place, his hole tightening up once the ball slides in fully. 

“I feel so full~” Elias gurgles, eyes rolled into his head and precum coating his face. “There’s soooo manyyyyy~”

Cackling, you stuff in another and listen to his keening wail when it shoves the others deeper inside, pressing against his sweet spot maddeningly. He’s almost at his limit, you can tell, his balls tight against his body and clenching as though he’s about ready to blow his load. “Do you wanna cum, Elias? Does your stuffed ass make you wanna cum?”

“Yessss,” he hisses with unseeing eyes, panting harshly and whimpering for you to touch him, to stroke his cock. “I need it, please! Please let me cum, liebe~”

Ignoring his begging for the moment, you nuzzle his balls and cock, kissing the red-hot flesh and lifting his cock so you can take the head into your mouth. The taste of his precum is strong on your tongue, another spurt of the clear liquid landing on the roof of your mouth when you slip a bead out of his stuffed ass.

“O-ohhh!” He yelps loudly, swearing profusely as his orgasm suddenly washes over him like a tsunami. “Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfu- OH FUCK!” 

With a sadistic grin, you let his throbbing cock slip out of your mouth just as he cums, letting his pearly seed splash onto his sweaty, saliva-drenched face. Oblivious to the cum pooling on his face, he lets his mouth hang open as he moans and groans and pants at an alarming volume. As he rides out his orgasm, you rip out all the other beads and thrust your fingers in instead, finding his prostate after a moment’s fumble. 

“No! Nonononono-” Elias starts shaking his head when you finger the hard bundle of nerves, his body spasming when his cum continues to leak out and prolong his orgasm. “No please! Bitte! Stop!” His pleading is lost in your laughter as you stroke his cock and devour the lost look on his face when his cum gums his lashes and leaks into his mouth.

Finally taking your fingers out of his abused hole, you circle the ring of muscle and bite his sweaty ass and thighs to leave bright marks all over. Elias is insensible below you, deep in subspace and lolling his head. He does stir a little when you reach down to smear his cum and saliva all over his face, rubbing it into his cheeks and wiping off your hand in his hair.


	24. Jager - Strung up

There’s just something about Marius in his flight suit that makes him so irresistible. The way the canvas hugs his thighs, how the straps around his ass and crotch draw attention to the treasure hidden beneath the fabric. Oh, that definitely makes your mouth water. And with his helmet and balaclava on, there’s that element of anonymity that inspires you to be crueller, more willing to treat him like your sex toy.

Although…the way he’s strung up by his wrists in front of you certainly adds to the allure. The way he’s hanging there, balancing on the tips of his toes and looking so vulnerable and helpless despite being fully clothed. It makes you want to tear every stitch of clothing off him and ravage him until he’s mindless with pleasure and pain both.

Alas, you’re not in the mood to play around. 

Marius gulps, shifts at the way you prowl towards him with a predatory look in your eyes. He’s apprehensive of what you have planned; you can be very cruel when you want to. The heat of your nails raking down his skin; the sharp prick of your teeth sinking into his flesh; the bite of your whip; the threat of your knife as you cut everything off him.

But not today. Today you simply unzip his flight suit right down to his balls. Faintly, he begins to hope that you’ll leave this one intact. And you do, but his boxers aren’t spared the same fate. They fall victim to your hands as you rip them apart, letting his rock hard cock bounce out. He’s always turned on by how you’re so willing to destroy his clothes and today is no exception. 

Your hands, greedy and questing, roam into his flight suit and grope at his firm ass, taking palmfuls of his bubble butt to slap and jiggle while you rub up against him like a cat in heat. Gasps escape him in quick bursts, his heated breaths misting up the inside of his visor until he can’t see a thing.

Needily, he begs you. Touch him. Please touch him. 

All he gets in response to his begging is a taunting laugh and a sneer, crowing how he only gets what you decide to give him. If you just want to play with his biteable ass and strong thighs instead of his thick cock, that’s what you’ll do. His ripped abs ripple under your touch, arching his hips forward and backward and trying his hardest to rub his aching cock against you, against something - anything to give him some relief. The rough fabric of your jumper rasps against the sensitive head, enough to make him gulp and tremble and for precum to bead at his slit.

You laugh, digging your fingers and nails into the satin soft skin of his plush backside, your breasts bobbing against his cock with every giggle. Marius whimpers softly beneath his balaclava, arching his back and straining on his tippy toes to press his dick into the valley of your cleavage. 

“Oh, what’s this?” You sneer at him, hugging him about the waist and dipping down ever so slightly so you’re sandwiching his manhood between your breasts.

It’s rather obscene, really, seeing his ruddy, bare cock peeking out from between the cream wool of your low cut jumper. Marius trembles, so helplessly turned on by the image and how you tut at him for being so lewd. Are you going to titty fuck him? Oh boy, he really hopes he gets a titty fuck.

His fantasies and pleas are clear as day even though he never utters a word beyond ‘please’. You grin at him again, teasing him by slowly raising the hem of your thick jumper up and over your clothed breasts, lowering them again, and then holding it up and above the curve of your breasts. 

Marius is panting heavily now, melting under your seductive teasing despite the stoic visage of his helmeted head. To any other, it would look like he’s unfazed by you, but his twitching cock and heaving chest says otherwise. 

Finally, you lean forward and slip Marius’ cock under your bandeau bra, the lack of underwire digging into his most vulnerable body part making you glad you decided to forgo your usual underwear. The technician starts to wheeze and moan and groan, rocking his hips back and forth in tiny little ruts that let him slide between your breasts. It’s the titty fuck he so badly wanted, but fuck this is way hotter than he ever anticipated. 

You drop the jumper over his cock, hiding it but for the tip of his head that peeks out from where it’s tucked in your cleavage. The bandeau squeezes your boobs together tightly, leaving your arms to snake around to his backside to pinch and grope at his ass once again. With your hands grasping palmfuls of his plush flesh, you guide his hips, pushing and pulling until he’s weeping all over your soft skin and turning the slide into something wet and hot and oh so sinful.

Marius is praising every god he knows, chanting your name with a breathless, tinny voice that tells you that he’s honestly at his limit, so ready to blow his load all over you, your face, your neck, your cleavage. His ass clenches in your grip, turning rock hard as he strains against losing control and trying to follow your pace at the same time.

You tut at him, telling him he’s not allowed to - don’t want him ruining your clothes after all. He groans, tipping his head back and wringing his hands and arms in their restraints. He pleas for mercy, for release, he’ll do anything if you just…let him cum all over you. 

It’s clear how much the idea turns him on. His cock twitches and throbs uncontrollably, pressing against one boob and drooling all over your skin, making it tacky and sending his musk right into your nose. You look down at his cock sliding between your breasts, watching his slit weep precum and drip down the side of his head. Oh, you can’t resist. 

The moment your tongue touches his cock, Marius moans long and loud, begging you and using all the endearments you’ve ever told him you liked. He sounds like he’s running a marathon by the way he’s panting and gasping and wheezing, a small sob breaking the moaning when you suck at the slit ever so gently.

“I can’t-!” He suddenly gasps in a panicked voice. “I can’t stop it-!” A chest shaking groan leaves him as his cock surges in your grip, growing thicker and harder as he cums in thick spurts. Oh, he must have been really turned on - his cum arcs high into the air, landing on your face, your lips, even some on your hair. The remaining dribble onto the tops of your breasts, joining the rivulets of pearlescent cum that drip down from your cheeks and your chin.

Laughing at how much he’s cum, you dip your head and take a nice deep suck of his cock just to hear him whimper and protest. You’re so very tempted to continue, after all, you’re already dirty, might as well get as filthy as possible before you have to clean up, right? However, you can see his hands turning a bit purple and decide to let him down for a bit of a rest. You can get creative with this new kink of his later.


	25. Jager - Haunted House

It started with glass clinking in his kitchen. Marius isn’t particularly superstitious, but he is paranoid at the best of times. He checks every time he hears it - nothing, not a single cup or mug out of place. Dismissing it as his paranoia or his PTSD, he goes back to bed, ignoring the sound of tree branches scratching at his window.

Then it’s his clothes shifting in his closet. Again, he checks. Nothing is out of place. He scratches his head, goes to his therapist and asks for better meds, and puts it out of his mind.

As of late, he’s starting to think that he isn’t imagining it. Every time he goes to take a shower, he feels a light draft on his bare ass. It’s stark against the hot shower he takes, startling him and making him look around for the source of the draft. There’s nothing - the windows are shut, the door is closed, and the glass shower door and walls aren’t exactly porous. He’s not shy and certainly not a stranger to public showers, and he’s been a cop for far too long not to know when someone is staring at him. 

Suspicious and more than a little wary, he sets up a tiny pinhole camera in the mirror of his bathroom, wanting to know if there is actually a peeping tom or something else entirely. It takes a while, but he becomes entirely certain there’s something or someone in his house - and it’s not someone he can see or hear. 

“I swear my house is haunted,” he grumbles as he resigns himself to the fact that he won’t have a shower by himself even in his own home. It certainly is weird to feel a disembodied hand trailing over the curve of his ass or a finger slipping up the inside of his thigh. However, he doesn’t deny that it feels…nice. Almost arousing even. Which makes him a little worried about the effect that Dominic’s kink talks are having on him. 

Having a thing for a ghost? Really?

Said ghost doesn’t seem to care about his muttering, not when that cool hand slides down his crack and teases at his asshole, rimming the tight bud until a moan is ripped out of Marius’ throat. It really feels good. God, he never thought he’d be interested in anal sex, but the finger that’s slowly teasing him open, slowly slipping inside of him with such tenderness is making him reconsider his kinks. 

He braces himself against the tiled wall, hands clenching and eyes slipping shut as he lets himself enjoy the sensation of being probed where no one has gone before. Suddenly, he gasps as something presses up against his back. It’s smaller than he is, certainly shorter, but it’s cool and misty, not quite corporeal, and provides another slew of sensations that make him groan. A smaller hand snakes around his trim waist, closing around the base of his erect, throbbing cock. It’s a little alarming how it mimics his movements when he’s jerking himself off - has this ghost been watching him when he’s masturbating? It would make sense, albeit a little creepy, but he doesn’t really give a damn when it plays with his foreskin like he loves, rubbing at his slit and pulling at his balls until he feels his orgasm well up within him.

“Sheisse!” Heat suffuses him as his orgasm hits him like a train, the finger inside him twisting and squirming and prolonging his orgasm for far longer than it should have. Marius spurts and squirts all over the place, painting the wall in front of him a pearlescent white. Panting, wheezing, Marius feels the finger slowly retreat from his asshole and the hand from his cock, giving his ass one last playful tap before the presence disappears entirely.

With whatever it was gone, the cop’s knees buckle and he crumples to the floor, gasping for air and trembling at how good it felt. Oof, well, looks like he has a new kink. Although he might be keeping this one to himself.


	26. Vigil - Happy Totally Not A Special Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Chul Kyung's birthday and he's nowhere to be seen.

It’s hard to celebrate Chul Kyung’s birthday when he’s adamant on not showing his face for the entire day. By ‘not showing his face’, you mean ‘not to be seen by anyone, living or dead’. You asked Craig, the person most likely to see your elusive lover, and he shrugged and said Chul Kyung didn’t come down for his regular morning workout. You then asked Mark, who said he didn’t see him all day on the surveillance cams.

After Mark, well, you’re right out of luck. Typically the only other person who’d know Chul Kyung’s whereabouts…is you. 

Great. 

You sigh and sit down on his bunk, staring down at your little present in your hands. You knew Chul Kyung didn’t really like people knowing his birthday or celebrating it, but this is going way beyond anything you expected. No one really knew anyway, beyond you, Six, and Gustave. Surely he didn’t think the base would throw him a birthday party like they did the others; Chul Kyung would skitter away at the first mention of ‘happy birthday’. 

For hours, you sit on his bed, wandering around his room and staring out the window and at the door, not touching any of his things (not that he had much). 8pm went past. Then 9. Then 10. And it is at 11pm that you finally sigh and give up, setting his present in the middle of his bed. “Happy Birthday, Chul Kyung,” you whisper into the empty room, closing the door behind you as you leave.

Unbeknownst to you, Chul Kyung lingers in the shadows at the far end of the hall, his dark mask looking through the window, his body blending in the darkness pooling on the balcony. He stares balefully at you as you ascend the stairs to your own bunk on the women’s floor, noting your tired form and slumped shoulders. A few emotions trickle through him and down his spine; concern, suspicion, and something he won’t accept to be deep affection. What were you in his room for?

In the stillness, he can tell exactly when you enter your room. The rhythmic footsteps, the pause, the near-silent creak of your door, and the soft click of the lock sliding into place after you close it behind you. 

He waits for a heartbeat, his breath caught in his chest.

…

…

The air whooshes out of him when his chest starts to ache. 

…You’re not coming back down. 

Chul Kyung isn’t sure whether he’s glad for it or not, but he takes the opportunity to slink into his own room and see what you left behind. There, sitting primly on his perfectly made bed is a cylindrical object wrapped in patterned cloth. It’s fairly large, almost as big around as a mortar shell, and tall too. He approaches it carefully and lifts it; surely it’s not an actual bomb or something, right? 

What is he saying, of course, it isn’t! You’re not someone to put that in his room, let alone tie it up so prettily in cloth with…a note on top. He sets the package on his desk and unties the note, unfolding it and lifting it up so he can read it in the moonlight.

 _Hey Chul Kyung,_

_I know you hate me saying it and I know you hate celebrating it so I won’t say it. But you know what I mean. It might not be a special day for you, but I wanted to give you something anyhow. It’s not a bomb, don’t worry._

_It’s something I thought you might have missed from home; we were talking about food and home cooking the other day and you mentioned that you missed eating this. You probably didn’t really mean that you wanted to eat it, and if you didn’t, sorry >< I made it. I know I’m not the best cook (though Grace said it tasted pretty authentic so it should taste good?) but I hope you enjoy eating it anyway._

_I wanted to hand it to you while it was still hot, but I couldn’t find your stupid ass anywhere today, so you’re going to have to eat it cold. Or microwave it, if you want. Not in the container though! That’s metal! And not microwave safe! Also, the container isn’t traditional but it’s something I use all the time for bringing my lunch to work. Make sure you give it back to me when you’re done, okay?_

_(-Happy birthday-) Happy Totally Not A Special Day, baby._

_\- Your not so secret lover_

His eyes dart across each hastily scrawled word, every messy letter, until he feels his eyes watering from how dry they are. Blinking quickly, Chul Kyung ducks his head to wipe the involuntary tears that well up in his eyes. Shit. Shit, fuck. 

Turning away from the window, he grabs the package in one hand and disappears out his door in the blink of an eye.

Upstairs, you’re nestled comfortably in bed and on the verge of falling asleep. Drifting in that limbo where you’re not quite awake but not quite asleep either. The footsteps outside your window and the quiet whirring of vehicles and aircraft in the distance are slowly lulling you to sleep. Sighing contentedly, you burrow deeper into your pillow and relax. 

Only to pop your eyes open when you hear something drop on the floor and a weight denting the side of your mattress. What the fuck?

Ratcheting upright, you turn around with wide eyes to find a broad back perched on your bed by your side, the spiky hair and 707th SMB shirt revealing the intruder’s identity. “Chul Kyung, what the fuck? It’s midnight, what are you doing here?”

He doesn’t reply you, his shoulders bobbing up and down as he starts fiddling with something in his hands. Metal clanks softly, like two plates skittering against each other. Then the distinct clacking of utensils. 

With wide eyes, you shift and look over his broad shoulder to see that he’s eating the food you left for him, two metal tiers of a tiffin carrier balanced on his thick thighs and the bottom, thickest tier held in his hand as he eats out of it with a spoon. 

“Chul Kyung,” you murmur, landing a hand on his back as you shuffle close to him. The murmur turns into a concerned whisper when you see that his cheeks are tear-streaked, little droplets falling onto his hands as he demolishes the food you made for him. “Chul Kyung?”

“I’m sorry.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth when he finishes eating, his voice just slightly hoarse as if he is speaking for the first time today. “I’m sorry.”

You know ‘sorry’ isn’t a word that he’ll say easily, so you just nod and hug him from behind carefully, making sure not to upend the metal containers on the floor. “What are you sorry for, silly boy.”

His chest stutters a little under your chest as he packs away the container lovingly, even tying the cloth back up so he can set it aside safely. Chul Kyung turns then, eyes averted, and leans you back onto the bed with you tucked into his chest instead of his back. Although on top of your blankets instead of under it with you, he burrows into your chest and holds you tight, burying his face into your shirt so you don’t see how he’s finally composing himself.

“Sorry,” he whispers in Korean. “For avoiding you.”

Your heart thuds in your chest. Then it clenches tightly. Silly boy. “It’s okay, I understood,” you murmur back and hug him close. Arms around his head, legs around his waist and tangled with his, you engulf him with your body as much as you can. 

The words are just on your lips as he cuddles you close, but something in your head tells you not to. So you keep quiet, threading your hand through his hair and humming softly to lull the both of you to sleep. 

Just before you both drift off, Chul Kyung presses a kiss to your breast. “Happy birthday to me.” And then he sleeps, a soft smile on his weary face.


	27. Doc - Good Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doc is neglectful in taking care of himself. You're going to teach him a lesson...but how should you punish a man who runs himself ragged on a daily basis?

Poor Gustave, torn in so many directions. Rainbow Six. GIGN. Base medical services. Home. You. Every time he goes to work, hale and hearty, he comes back with bags under his eyes and a weariness to his posture that worries you.

“I’m okay, just had a bad sleep schedule, that’s all,” he always says. Blaming the consecutive deployments for his terrible state instead of himself.

“I did eat lunch,” he insists, though he wilts at your disbelieving glare. “Yesterday.” He never eats; always forgets to when he’s immersed in his work. When patients pile in by the dozen or when he’s dragged out into the field where he’s always got an eye and an ear out for trouble, he never gets a moment to eat anything more than energy bars or pound cakes. Always so eager to chastise others over their health while completely neglecting his own.

You won’t have it.

Anger and frustration rush through you when you see Gustave stumble through the door, his heavy bag slipping off his shoulder and landing with a loud thump. He’s absolutely exhausted; his eyes unfocused and heavy-lidded, looking so close to falling asleep that you rush to his side, hurrying him to the sofa. Thank goodness for your inner couch potato - a huge sofa is much better than the love seat that would have matched your decor.

With all that space, Gustave flops onto his side and burrows into the soft cushions, dragging you down with him to cuddle. “Hello.”

“Hello to you too,” you murmur back to him, brushing his hair back as he dozes off completely. For a moment, you just lie there and admire his handsome, worn face as he sleeps peacefully. His cheeks are sunken in just a little bit, his stubble growing wild and all over the place. Nothing like your well-groomed, put together Gustave. It saddens you to see that he’s not taking good care of himself when you’re not around, but there’s little you can do about it short of beating it into him.

Hmm, there’s an idea. Maybe for another day, though, you want to pamper your boy as much as you can while he’s on leave. First things first, a total wipe down. Good thing he doesn’t smell all that ripe, but you can tell he didn’t shower before he left the base.

One bed bath later and you’re tucking a blanket around his naked, sleeping form, leaving him to his rest while you go about your evening. Time doesn’t stop even when your loved one is at home. That night, you pull out the sofa bed extension under the couch and cuddle up to Gustave, breathing in his clean, musky scent that you’ve missed. You haven’t forgotten the punishment he is to receive, not by a longshot. But…maybe in the morning.

Like bubbles rising to the surface, you wake from your sleep. Slow, gradual, and surrounded by warmth. You take a moment to doze a little more, to cuddle your bolster and enjoy the heat blasting from your electric blanket. Ah, it’s almost like cuddling Gustave. Your bolster is even as thick as he is, warm and…hairy?

Your eyes slide open to confirm what it is you’re feeling and you discover that, yes, you are sleeping next to Gustave. A very naked Gustave. It takes you a moment but you remember that you did wipe him down last night and strip him, cuddling up to him on the sofa where he passed out.

His arm is wrapped around your waist, his back flat on the sofa while you’re pressed up against his side with your head on his shoulder. Ah, there can be no better way to wake up. You sigh in contentment, a hand roaming over his firm chest, letting his little chest hairs tickle your palm. Your hand explores well-trodden territory, cupping his pecs and dipping your fingertips into the valleys and planes of his abs, wandering down to his pelvis where you rub over the thick pubic hair framing your second most favourite part of him.

His cock, unlike Gustave, is completely awake, tenting the thin blankets and bumping against your fingers as you cup his balls gently. With your hand around his balls, cupping them, it feels like he’s finally home. Slowly, gently, you stroke his jewels, caressing them with thumb and palm, rolling them around until you can feel his cock fully harden.

Heh, he always did like you playing with his balls.

Just then, an idea pops into your head and a dastardly smile stretches over your lips. As subtly as you can, you slide under the blankets and slip between his legs, your eyes locked on his thick, throbbing cock that’s just barely illuminated by the morning sun piercing through the covers. How beautiful. Your Gustave is perfect in every way and his cock is no exception.

You open your mouth and press and open-mouthed kiss to his tip, letting his taste bloom across your tongue. There’s a light salty musk to his skin, so familiar and so arousing that you press even more wet kisses to his head and slit, licking up pearls of precum as you play with his foreskin.

Your hands, though they brace his cock upwards, are also not idle. They slide over his balls and the crease of his thighs, tickling and touching seductively in time with your mouth and your lips. They also serve to pin his hips down when you finally open your mouth to suck lightly on the side of his shaft.

A soft moan wafts into the air above you, near silent. Your ears don’t miss a thing, however, and they pick it up along with more quiet whines when you try to suck a hickey into the shaft of his cock, your tongue soothing the pain the suction leaves behind. Again and again, you suck and lick at his cock, culminating with the lightest on the very tip of his cockhead. There, he dribbles more precum into your mouth along with a very dirty swear from his own mouth.

“M-madame?” Gustave whimpers from above you, sleep making his voice hoarse as he tries to figure out what you’re doing.

Instead of replying him verbally, you just take his cock into your mouth to give him a blowjob in truth. No time for teasing when you have a goal in mind. Just one swirl of your tongue around his head, just one dip into his slit, and Gustave starts to yelp.

“I’m going to cum!”

You wrench your head off and throw the covers back, one hand cinching the bottom of his cock tightly and the other chocking his balls mercilessly. “No,” you hiss. “No cumming.”

Tears well up in his foggy eyes and he falls back onto the sofa. “Aannh, mercy, Madame. Mercy, please,” he whimpers, his hips squirming and legs shifting around your body. “I’m so pent up, I haven’t cum in ages, please Madame.”

“No mercy for naughty boys, I’m afraid.” You shake your head and watch him pant through gritted teeth, watch him slowly edge back from the near orgasm. “You haven’t been taking care of yourself, have you?”

Defeated, Gustave shakes his head pitifully. “No, Madame, I have not. I’m sorry.”

Seeing that he’s right to continue, you start rubbing your spit slick lips up the side of his cock again, back and forth, back and forth, until he starts shaking his head again. “When was the last time you had a proper meal?”

Your beloved doctor’s breath hitches and his heart skips a beat at the return of your tongue. “A-ah, meal?” He struggles to think. “D-dinner?”

That’s definitely not last night and judging from the quiet grumble in his belly, it’s probably not the night before either.

You glare at him and nip at his balls gently, raising your head to avoid being hit in the nose when he jerks his hips upwards. “You’re clearly not taking care of yourself. What did I say, Gustave?”

He lolls his head dazedly, that crinkle in his forehead telling you he’s trying to remember. After a moment of silence that’s only broken by the soft whimper in his throat when you take his cock down to the base, he breaks. “T-to eat! To sleep!” He stops to take a quick gulp of air when the breath wheezes out of him at feeling you gag around his cock. “To be a good boy!”

With a loud, slick noise, you raise your head and clench your hands tight around him again to prevent his orgasm from spewing. “And were you a good boy?”

Gustave is shaking his head frantically now. “No, I’m not a good boy,” he moans. “I’ve-I’ve been so naugh-tyyyyyy~” His voice trails off when you sink your teeth into his thick thigh, a hand working at his cock to make good use of the frothing saliva and precum soaking his cock. “Please! Please-I’m sorry-I’ve been a bad boy-have some mercy Madame pleeeaasse!” His voice is almost shrill now, tapering into a high pitched whine as you deepthroat his cock once more.

His entire body is trembling under you now, almost like a human vibrator, so close to orgasm that he can taste it but can’t cum for some reason. He pleads and begs and bargains, actual tears filling his eyes and rolling down his tanned cheeks as he watches you choke and suck and lick at his cock like it’s your own personal toy.

Plea after plea, edge after edge, and now Gustave is limp and twitching. His words have long become senseless babbles, both in English and French, and his hands are buried in your hair just to have something to hold onto. He hasn’t cum yet, but you know you’ve broken your boy in right. He’s accepting it. Accepting that if you don’t want him to cum, he will never cum. As is your right. As is his punishment.

It is when you see the defeat and deep frustration on his face that you finally decide to let him cum. With two fingers coated in your saliva, you push it into his tight ass and hone in for his prostate. At the same time, you swallow his cock down as far as possible, your nose buried in his pubic hair.

Cum for me.

Gustave’s eyes snap open and his mouth hangs down, drool leaking over his lip as he gurgles a thank you, his body spasming uncontrollably with the orgasm that you wrest from him. His hands never pull on your hair despite its tightening grip. His legs never squeeze the life out of you despite closing around your shoulders. His cock never suffocates you despite cumming an entire month’s worth of semen into your throat.

You swallow down as much as you can, letting him feel your throat constricting around his slowly softening cock. As you drag your head upwards, you can feel his half hard cock, soaked and slimy with cum and saliva, slip out of your mouth. It lands on his damp belly with a splat, cum still drooling out of the tip just as saliva drips from his slack mouth.

While you lick your lips clean of his seed and his taste, Gustave lies brainless beneath you. His beautiful brown eyes are dilated and unfocused, twitching and turning to look at you as you call his name and cup his bristly cheek.

“Hey baby. Good morning.”

He tries to reply to you, but what comes out is entirely unintelligible. A deep sense of satisfaction fills you at the sight of your well-spoken lover being reduced to a pile of senseless, brainless mush. So cute. Rather than clean him up right away, you shuffle up and hug his head to your chest, kissing the top of his head. Gustave’s eyelashes tickle your skin as he flutters his eyes closed, his body relaxing as he sinks back into slumber.

Hopefully this will teach him some sort of lesson. If not…there’s always round 2.


	28. Jager - Happy Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Jager's birthday~

“Happy birthday, babyboy,” you coo as you slide into his lap, hands coming up to cradle his handsome face. “Someone’s turning 41 today~”

“A birthday!” Marius grins at you, sliding his own hands over your wrists to keep your palms to his cheeks. “I wonder whose?” Here, out on the overlook near base, on the back of his pickup truck bundled up in blankets and surrounded by pillows, he’s not afraid of incurring your wrath. Maybe it’s the fresh air that’s making him more cheeky than usual.

You sniff. “Whose indeed,” you murmur, shifting so you can slide one arm around his neck instead, pulling him close enough so you’re cheek to cheek with him, lips to his ear. “A shame the birthday boy isn’t here. I was about to give him a birthday present.”

“And what kind of present might that be?” Marius purrs and wraps his arms around your waist so he can nuzzle into your neck and pull the blankets more securely around your form. It’s supposed to be a chilly night, but he barely feels anything between the heavy blankets and your comforting form atop him. 

An exhale and a little nip on his earlobe chastises him for keeping up this little game, but you’re ready to play. “Mmm, I was thinking of giving him a get out of jail free card for one night. Anything he wants, he gets.” You can feel him perk up under you, his face turning to you so he can smile into your jawline to try and quip something. Before he says anything, you continue. “But it looks like he’s not here to collect his present, so I guess I’ll save it for another occasion.”

It takes only the blink of an eye, but Marius rolls over and has you on your back with him blocking out the starlight above you. “But mistress~!” 

You laugh. “But mistress what?”

Marius is pouting hard now, slumping on top of you and rubbing himself all over you until you’re laughing from how badly he’s squirming. He never likes to admit it’s his birthday, much less receive presents, but with you? “It’s my birthday, mistress. May I have my birthday present?”

Squeezing out your arm from under his chest, you tug on his hair and bite his neck hard. “Naughty boy.”

A helpless moan is forced out of him at the sharp pain and resulting pleasure. “Your naughty boy.”

You laugh. “Yes, my naughty boy.”

Marius gets a twinkle in his eye then, kissing you gently on the lips as he holds himself above you with his elbows by your head. “Your naughty birthday boy.”

As much as he’s starting to grate on your nerves, you also find it equally amusing, and so you snarl and nip at his lips. “You’re really too old to behave like a child, Marius.”

Rather than feel censured, your beautiful boy just laughs instead and rolls over onto his back, taking you with him onto his chest. “Life is too short to be a sourpuss, mistress.”

Adorable. Irritating, but adorable.


	29. Thermite - Happy Birthday

As exuberant and cheeky as he is about everything else, Jordan doesn’t like to advertise his birthday. It’s annoying when he has the entire base wishing him a happy birthday every time he turns a corner. Oh, he doesn’t mind celebrating it with his unit. Definitely doesn’t mind celebrating with you. But just not with the entire base.

At the bar he has birthday drinks with the boys and girls, staggering out only after Eliza accidentally starts a fight with some women who were pawing at him. Six wasn’t too happy when she came down to spring the lot of them out of the local jail, but she did shoot Jordan a nasty smile as she wishes him a happy birthday just before she leaves. Which, of course, led to the entire police station singing a happy birthday song for him. He cringes but lives, knowing that this is definitely not the retribution he was expecting from his commanding officer.

Speaking of retribution. Jordan makes like a bat out of hell the moment he gets a chance, throwing a bar of chocolate at Eliza as he does so. When she asks why, all she gets is a ‘For White’s Day!’ thrown over his shoulder just before he disappears around the corner. She shakes her head. Strange man. Still, the chocolate is appreciated, especially among the hungry unit.

On his end, Jordan manages to barrel in through the front door just as the clock strikes midnight. Shit. He’s in trouble. As he rounds the corner, shoulders hunched around his ears and looking like a kicked dog, he spots you curled up on the couch with his favourite dessert on the coffee table in front of you. Immediately, he feels like a dick. An absolute dickbag. 

He creeps over quietly and sheds all the layers he can, gathering you into his arms gently so he can cuddle you in his lap as he sits on the couch so he can kiss you awake. Quiet apologies are whispered into your cheeks and lips as he rouses you like a prince with his sleeping beauty, nuzzling your neck when you grunt drowsily. 

As you stir, he weathers a rough slap to his cheek and a hoarse admonishment for getting himself arrested.

Ah, so that’s what the nasty smile was for. 

Jordan pouts, buries his face into your hair, and offers some chocolate to redeem himself. Well, chocolate and his expert masseuse skills.

“Happy White’s Day, baby,” he purrs and kisses you.

You huff and tug at his hair but kiss him back nonetheless. “Happy birthday, you annoying little shit.”


End file.
